


Walk (A While With Me)

by joidianne4eva



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Attempted Drugging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9493253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joidianne4eva/pseuds/joidianne4eva
Summary: The first time Mickey saw Ian Gallagher, he was just a face on the TV, another rich asshole flaunting his money and his looks while Mickey pretended that the sharpness of the man’s jaw and the dark look in his eyes didn’t have lust curling in the pit of Mickey’s stomach.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This entire story was down to the brilliant art piece put together by Storklau, who I have to say thaks to for getting me back into the fandom.

                                                    

                                                                                              Art by [Storklau ](http://68.media.tumblr.com/13303fd2099d34aa81946e93f374815d/tumblr_inline_og0gg6PmyT1trualy_500.png)

 

The first time Mickey saw Ian Gallagher, he was just a face on the TV, another rich asshole flaunting his money and his looks while Mickey pretended that the sharpness of the man’s jaw and the dark look in his eyes didn’t have lust curling in the pit of Mickey’s stomach.

But that was the rub, the guy was just a face and Mickey had his own life to live so he forgot about Ian Gallagher about as soon as he’d seen him, instead focusing on checking the cash his brothers had brought in. The last thing they needed was for Terry to think that they’d either tried to rob him or lost him money. Mickey’s brains was the only thing standing between his brothers and a beatdown, so he did his job and he did it well and he never let his brain stray to the redhead on the TV more than that once.

*O*

The next time Mickey saw Ian, the man’s face was leering at him from a poster.

Mickey let his eyes flicker over the lean muscles that made up the guy’s torso, following the line of the red hairs from Ian’s navel down to the boxers that he was advertising.

Before his brain could really do more than recognize the familiarity, Tony came busting out of the bar and Mickey flipped up his collar, trying to give himself some added protection from the bitter Chicago weather as he followed his brother back home.

The next time Mickey saw the guy was a lot more memorable.

*O*

Mickey glowered at his drink because if he was looking at that he wasn’t looking at all the half-naked guys swanning around the damn place.

He couldn’t believe that he was in a fucking gay bar but here he was because he’d been putting Mandy first ever since the moment he caught Terry trying to get into her room, drunk off his face, and he wasn’t going to stop now.

There was no way he was letting her come to this place by herself even though Mandy could definitely take care of herself, the point was he didn’t want her to have to. That’s why he was shelling out to Kev and Vee, making sure she had somewhere to sleep at night that wasn’t their house.

Exhaling slowly, Mickey took another taste of his drink before letting his gaze flicker to where Mandy and her group of friends were whooping and hollering at the dancers on stage.

Mandy’s smile was so wide that it look like it hurt and in that moment she looked almost exactly like their Ma had.

The thought had Mickey’s eyes flickering back to his half-empty drink. Shaking his head at himself, he pushed off of his stool and headed outside for a smoke.

The air was cool and crisp as he walked far enough away from the club that the music no longer felt like it was trying to drill a hole in his head.

Lighting his cigarette, Mickey exhaled slowly, watching the smoke plume in front of him.

He was twenty and still stuck in the same rut he’d been in when he was fifteen. He was still running drugs for his dad, still sneaking looks at guys while he pretended to be straight, still so fucking sick of it all that he didn’t know why he got up every morning.

Taking another drag, Mickey let his eyes move over the patrons entering and leaving the club, his brow hiking when Mandy came barrelling out of the door, her eyes narrowed as they scanned the alleyway until she caught sight of him.

The frown slid from her face as she headed his way and Mickey didn’t even try to keep her from stealing his cigarette.

“The fuck do I look like, your supplier?” he groused even as he lit another one.

Mandy just smirked at him, bumping their shoulders together as she exhaled a lungful of smoke.

“Why you out here freezing your nuts off?” she asked and Mickey shrugged, avoiding her knowing gaze.

“Feel trapped in there,” Mickey muttered and Mandy nodded like she got it and she probably did. After all she’d been the one to claim that the magazines Tony found in his room were hers and while she’d never confronted him on it, Mickey was pretty sure that she knew.

“We’re just getting ready to leave anyway,” she informed him, dropping her cigarette stub and crushing it under her boot. “Come on, just ten more minutes and I’ll even buy you a drink.”

“You know flashing your tits in that place ain’t gonna get you a damn thing,” Mickey pointed out, grinning when she flipped him off.

“That’s what you think bitch,” she responded, hooking an arm around his as she all but towed him back into the place, barely giving him a chance to drop his cigarette.

The music was softer now though the dancing wasn’t getting any better. Mickey squinted at the redhead on the stage as the guy dry humped a pole. There was something familiar about the guy but Mickey couldn’t put his finger on it and before he could give it much more thought Mandy was climbing on the fucking bar and Mickey almost had a heart attack trying to get her down without breaking her damn neck.

By the time he had Mandy’s feet back on the ground, they were both laughing so hard it could hardly be described as laughing. If Mickey was honest they were cackling but it felt good and he wasn’t going to stop.

“Hey, everything alright over here?”

The voice had Mickey’s glee slipping away as he turned to face the very same redhead that had just been on the stage and while the guy’s dancing had been shit, his body more than made up for it.

Before Mickey could respond Mandy draped herself over his shoulder and waved at the guy.

“Hey, Ian, this is my big brother, Mickey,” she introduced and Mickey’s brain stuttered over that because Mandy had claimed she’d never been to this place before.

The guy, Ian, looked Mickey from head to toe before smiling and Mickey felt like a seal that had just been sighted by a shark.

The smile also reminded Mickey of exactly where he’d seen the guy before.

“What modelling gigs not paying you enough, Red?” Mickey sprouted instead of greeting Ian and the man cocked a brow at him until Mickey gestured to the stage, then he just laughed, full-throated and unself-conscious in a way that made Mickey feel even more off kilter.

Mandy batted at Mickey’s shoulder, obviously finally noticing that he was being rude but Ian just shook his head.

“No, the pay is good, I just know the dancers here and my sister manages the place so me getting up on stage is no big,” he explained.

“And they let you keep the tips,” Mandy cut in.

Mickey narrowed his eyes at her words, “How the hell would you know?” he demanded but Mandy just shot him a secretive smile before sauntering back into the crowd, leaving Mickey alone with Ian.

“She’s right, the tips are half of the reason to be up there,” Ian offered up, cocking his head when Mickey turned back to face him. “The other half has something to do with the vantage point. You can scope out all the hot guys from up there.”

“That what you doing now, scoping?” Mickey demanded but Ian just beamed at him.

“Nope, I’m just being friendly,” he responded, spreading his hands out as if to show that he meant no harm and Mickey sighed as his eyes flickered over the ring on the man’s pinkie finger.

“Buy me a drink and you can be as friendly as you want,” he retorted, freezing when he realized how that sounded but Ian didn’t seem to mind or notice, he was already flagging down the bartender.

*O*

The next time Mickey saw Ian, was completely his fault.

The run had been a good one and Mickey had made sure that Mandy was with Kev and Vee before he headed back to the White Swallow.

This time the redhead was behind the bar, talking to a hulk of a man.

Mickey took a seat and watched Ian out of the corner of his eye until the redhead’s companion headed off into the crowd, then he focused on the countertop to hide the fact that he cared about who Ian talked to.

A few ticks passed before a drink appeared in front of him and Mickey glanced up only to be met by a Cheshire grin.

“No Mandy?” Ian inquired.

Mickey shrugged, “You don’t see her do you?” he shot back, taking a sip of his drink. He wasn’t surprised that it was vodka…he was a bit surprised that Ian had remembered. “You sure your model gig’s actually paying you? First you’re dancing now you’re bartending.”

Ian smirked as he leaned against the counter, “I like to keep busy and my sister needs the help,” he replied, “Doesn’t explain why you’re here if you’re not with Mandy.”

“A guy can’t get a drink without the third degree?” Mickey shot back, his eyes darting from Ian’s face to scan the bar because the other man was right. If anybody saw him here now, he wouldn’t have an explanation that would keep Terry from putting him in the ground.

“Hey, you can do anything you…” Ian trailed off, his eyes narrowing at something at the other end of the bar and before Mickey could inquire what it was the man was gone, long legs eating up the distance between him and the two guys sitting there.

Ian grabbed the drink that one of the men had been about to down, in one hand, and grabbed the collar of guy’s friend in the other, hauling the man almost completely across the bar.

“The fuck did you just put in here?” he snarled.

The guy apparently didn’t answer quick enough because his head was meeting the bar before Mickey could blink and this time Ian did haul the guy completely across it, his grip on the man’s shirt probably the only thing keeping him on his feet as blood poured from an open wound over his brow.

“I’m gonna ask you one more fucking time. What did you just put in his drink?”

The man blinked dazedly, “It wasn’t nothin’ serious, man. I was just playing around.”

Ian turned his gaze on the other guy who looked like he was going to be sick. “He drugged my drink?”

“I’m taking it you didn’t agree to that?” Ian asked and when the man shook his head, he turned his focus on the idiot who was now trying to squirm out of his grip. “This club is a safe place for our dancers and the people who come here, that’s what we tell everyone. Right now you’re trying to make a liar out of me. Do you know what happens to people who make me look like a liar?”

The guy shook his head frantically, scrabbling at the hand still holding him, “I swear to god, I won’t…”

“You’re right, you won’t,” Ian grinned, his teeth gleaming in the light as the huge guy from before walked up to the bar. “See, my friend Damien here is going to take you into the back and if you’re lucky he’ll be nice to you until Fiona gets here, if not…you’ll probably be grateful he wasn’t when she gets to you.”

Letting go of the guy Ian smoothed down his crumpled shirt, “Next piece of advice…don’t run.”

Mickey wasn’t the least bit surprised when the guy did just that, trying to vault the counter top, only to freeze when Damien appeared right in front of him.

Mickey sipped at his drink as the big man lead the guy through the crowd before his gaze flickered back to Ian who was talking to the guy’s date.

The other man nodded at whatever Ian had said before he headed the same way that Damien had gone.

Obviously feeling Mickey’s scrutiny Ian shot him a rueful grin before he started wiping down the bar as the other patrons went back to what they were doing as if shit like this was normal.

“Fiona doesn’t like blood on her counters,” Ian offered up. Mickey just cocked a brow at that. He wouldn’t have pinned Ian for the violent type but the guy had protective all over him so Mickey wasn’t really shocked at his reaction to what had gone down.

What had surprised Mickey was how unfazed Ian had been about the whole thing.

“This type of shit happen often?” Mickey inquired.

Ian shook his head, “Most of the people here are regulars so they know the drill but we always get one or two new ones, you know?”

It was on the tip of Mickey’s tongue to ask what the drill was but he didn’t. If living with Terry had taught him one thing it was that sometimes the less you knew, the better.

Gulping his drink down, Mickey stood up, ignoring the way that Ian was watching him warily.

“You don’t have to go,” Ian muttered.

“Nah, it’s cool, Red. Need to get some fresh air,” Mickey responded though he was pretty sure both of them knew that he wasn’t going to come back, not that night.

*O*

When Mickey finally made his way back to the club, Ian was nowhere in sight and it annoyed Mickey how much that mattered to him.

Grabbing his now familiar seat at the bar, he ordered a shot of vodka.

The bartender was a woman this time and she grinned at him when he frowned at her. Mickey barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that because he wasn’t exactly here to make friends.

“Didn’t think you’d be back,” a familiar voice said and this time Mickey did roll his eyes.

“You sure you actually work?” he shot back, glancing at Ian when the man settled on the empty stool at his side.

Ian grinned, “I’m actually heading to a job soon. You could come with if you’re not busy. I bet I could get them to pay you. I’ll tell them you’re my P.A. or something.”

Mickey glanced pointedly at his tattoos but that just made Ian grin even wider.

“Come on,” he wheedled and Mickey sighed because he wasn’t here for this shit…to be honest he wasn’t even sure why he was there at all. He’d tried to convince himself that it was to get laid but considering the fact that the bar was as far into the club as he’d ever gotten, that plan wasn’t exactly a good one.

“Three hundred bucks for two hours,” he offered up and Ian blinked at him like he was trying to send a message via Morse Code.

“I was gonna offer you six but three is cool,” he responded.

Mickey glowered at him, “I don’t need your pity, Red.”

“Not pity, that’s what my old P.A. cost before she did a runner,” Ian replied, keeping his tone soft like Mickey was some wild thing that would bolt at the drop of a hat. “She was a real winner until she realized that the fucking guys things wasn’t just a front.”

“And you think that shit won’t bother me?” Mickey demanded, puffing himself up.

Ian eyed him for a long moment before smirking, “You’re literally sitting in a gay bar and asking me that?”

Mickey shrugged, “Just asking, ain’t like I care. Liking what I like don’t make me a bitch.”

Ian hummed beneath his breath but he didn’t say anything else as he watched Mickey nurse his drink.

Finally when the scrutiny was getting a bit too much, Mickey glowered at him. “What?”

“I’m just waiting to hear if you’re going to be playing my P.A. for the night,” Ian responded, glibly.

Mickey slammed the rest of his drink back before slipping from his stool, “You’re paying me that six hundred,” he replied, frowning when Ian grinned at him.

It pissed him off how easy this was, talking to Ian and being around the guy. It was starting to feel like something that could be normal but normal for people like Mickey usually ended poorly so he kept the scowl in place as he followed Ian out of the club.

*O*

Mickey was silent for the Uber drive over but he couldn’t quite keep his tongue when Ian led him into a non-descript building, waving at the doorman who eyed Mickey suspiciously.

“You sure you’re actually taking me to work, Red? Cause this shit is starting to feel like a hookup,” he commented lightly as they stepped into an elevator.

Ian stared at him wide-eyed, “Didn’t think you’d say yes to a hookup.”

Mickey just shrugged at that, “Still here, ain’t I?”

“You…you can’t say that shit,” Ian hissed, yanking at his shirt and when Mickey’s eyes followed the motion he cocked his brow at the bulge in Ian’s trousers. “You couldn’t have fucking said that on the ride over?” Ian all but whined and this time Mickey didn’t curb the urge to snort.

“Didn’t think that’s all it’d take to get your engines revving,” he responded and surprisingly he was being pretty damn honest because after their first meeting Ian’s banter hadn’t strayed into flirtatious territory again. Mickey hadn’t realized just how much that had apparently bothered him.

“Your face has my engines revving,” Ian groused, grimacing when Mickey stared at him. “Alright that sounds stupid but seriously, how did you not notice I was into you the second I met you?”

Mickey shrugged because it wasn’t like he was on the lookout for that shit.

Ian sighed, tugging at his shirt again, “Okay, look this is a shitty place to ask this…”

“I wasn’t joking about that hookup,” Mickey pointed out, frowning when Ian glowered at him.

“I wasn’t asking you for a hookup, I wanted to know if you’d be okay going out for a drink or something,” he finished on a whisper.

Mickey opened his mouth then shut it when he couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“I’m not stupid, I get that you’re not out but we could just go for a drink, right? Straight guys have drinks all the time,” Ian babbled and there was something so fucking earnest about the way he was looking at Mickey, despite the fact that he was still rock hard.

It made Mickey feel like he was something other than just a means to an end and it had been a long time since anyone had made him feel like that.

He was going to blame that for the tiny nod he gave Ian, ignoring the grin that stretched across the other man’s face.

“Yeah?” Ian prompted and Mickey shot him a dirty look. “Okay, yeah, we’re doing this,” he grinned.

“Ain’t doing a damn thing until I get paid,” Mickey groused just to make himself feel better but the words didn’t dim Ian’s smile. Thankfully before the idiot could say something dumb, the elevator stopped and Mickey was out of there before the doors had finished opening.

Ian followed him a bit slower, catching up when Mickey realized that had no clue where the fuck he was going.

“You could say ‘no’, if it bothers you,” Ian told him solemnly, “I’d still pay you for today.”

“You’re fucking right you’d pay me for today,” Mickey shot back, rolling his shoulders to ease out some of the tension building there. “I don’t do shit I don’t wanna do, Red. You’re buying me free drinks, I’m gonna go along for the ride.”

“And after that?” Ian queried, his tongue flickering out to wet his lip and Mickey’s gaze followed the motion.

“After that you might be getting a ride but that depends on how little you can annoy me between now and then,” he retorted and Ian held up his hands in surrender.

Ian bit his lip as he stared at him and the look in his eyes made Mickey want to take back that restriction but before either of them could do something stupid a woman rounded the corner, grinning when she caught sight of Ian.

“Thank God you’re here, Mr G,” she greeted, nodding at Mickey in greeting. “Ned’s on one again.”

Ian wrinkled his nose at that, “Wife finally found out he’s a cheating bastard?” he queried, blandly before turning to Mickey, “Karen, this is Mickey, my new P.A.”

Karen waved at him, her gaze flickering over him from head to toe. “You look way too badass to be a P.A.,” she offered up and Mickey decided then and there that he liked the chick.

“Got bribed,” he responded and Karen nodded like that explained it all.

“I’m Mr G’s photographer so if you need to schedule anything it’ll be through me,” she told him, leading them back down the corridor. “We only operate on a skeleton crew at night so it’s just me, Jimmy, the lighting guy and Ned for hair and makeup. It’s cool because Mr G knows what he’s doing but lemme tell ya some of these models can be bitches when they think we’re not kissing their asses with enough staff.”

“Doesn’t even matter,” Ian cut in, “If you know your angles all you need is a good photographer and good lighting.”

Karen snorted, “Yeah, you try telling that to Lip,” she groused and from the look on both their face Mickey decided he really didn’t want to know.

“Can I take a smoke break while you’re looking pretty for the camera or do you need me for something?” Mickey asked.

Ian shook his head, his eyes narrowing slightly, “You’re not making a run for it are you?”

“You calling me a coward, Red?” Mickey demanded with a smirk that Ian matched perfectly and the expression had lust curling low in Mickey’s gut.

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s run from me,” Ian shot back.

Mickey curled his tongue behind his teeth for a second and just grinned before turning to Karen who was watching them both with a confused expression on her face.

“Anywhere I can smoke up here?” Mickey asked and the woman pointed to a door away from the tons of lights.

“The balcony’s out there,” she told him and Mickey inclined his head in thanks before heading off, he didn’t need to turn around to know that Ian was probably watching his ass.

*O*

Mickey wasn’t a big believer of that whole shit about absence making the heart grow fonder but his current circumstances sort of belied that shit, considering that he’d managed a full two weeks away from Ian before he found himself here.

Gripping Ian’s wrists tighter at the thought, Mickey pressed them back against the man’s sheets as he rolled his hips, biting his lip at the firm pressure just where he wanted it.

“I thought you wanted a drink,” Ian choked out and Mickey smirked down at him, releasing his hold on the other man so that could slip lower.

He didn’t stop moving until was making eye contact with Ian’s crotch. “You saying I ain’t gonna be sucking on something?” he queried as he pressed two fingers to the bulge straining the front of Ian’s trousers.

Ian’s hips hitched into the pressure as he groaned and Mickey guessed that Ian wasn’t really that bothered about what he was going to be drinking after all.

*O*

It was almost morning when Mickey stumbled home. Honestly, he should’ve just stayed at Ian’s but that wasn’t something he could let himself have. He could do a fuck and drinks now and again but waking up next to another man was a whole new ballgame and Mickey wasn’t ready for that shit.

He definitely wasn’t ready to admit how much a part of him wanted it all.

Shoving the door open, Mickey skidded to a halt at the sight of Terry. Finding his dad on the coach wasn’t exactly new but the fact that man was wide awake, well that was.

“The fuck have you been?” Terry slurred and for a minute Mickey’s eyes darted towards Mandy’s bedroom door before remembering that there was no way that Mandy would be anywhere near their house at this time of the morning.

“Had to see a chick,” Mickey responded, ignoring the feeling of Terry’s eyes on him.

“You seen your sister?”

The question made the blood freeze in Mickey’s veins but he kept his face blank as he tuned to face the other man. “Ain’t her keeper,” he sneered, not moving an inch when Terry lurched from the couch because it was better that the man’s eyes were on him, that his attention on him rather than Mandy. Mickey could take anything that Terry could dish out and he proved it a second later when Terry backhanded him across the face.

Prodding his bloody lip with his tongue Mickey watched Terry from the corner of his eye.

“Talk to me like that again and you won’t have teeth enough to say a fucking word,” Terry snarled before stumbling back to his perch.

Mickey didn’t move for a second, he just breathed because this was his reality and he’d been fucking stupid to forget that even for a moment.

*O*

Mickey couldn’t say why he’d let Mandy drag him back to the club but it might have had something to do with the way that her hands had shook as she stared at the swollen mess that was his lip.

He hadn’t even had the time to think it through but now he was regretting it because Ian was heading their way and there was nowhere that Mickey could hide.

Ian drew up just a few feet away from them, the wide grin on his face melting and reforming into something cold as his eyes flickered from Mickey to Mandy.

Mickey met Ian’s gaze steadily but the man didn’t say anything as he closed the few feet between them. He didn’t have to say anything, the way that his eyes seemed stuck to Mickey’s face said enough.

“Don’t fucking start with me,” Mickey sighed, letting his gaze shift from Ian’s because he couldn’t deal with pity from Ian, not now…not ever.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything,” Ian shot back and Mickey side-eyed him but Ian was busy flagging down the bartender and Mickey had to wait until he ordered before Ian’s attention shifted  back to him and Mandy.

“You two okay?” Ian asked, his tone clashing with the coldness in his eyes.

“I’m good,” Mandy perked up as she skirted them, “I’m gonna go find Lip,” she told them as she escaped and Mickey knew an escape when he saw it but even after Mandy was gone Ian just kept staring at him.

“What, Firecrotch?” Mickey snapped, ignoring the flush he could feel heating his face when Ian’s lips ticked up into a smirk.

“You’re like a stray cat, you know?” Ian muttered, accepting the drinks from the bartender. “I don’t know whether to pet you or feed you.”

And the words put them back on familiar ground, they made Mickey feel less like he was scrabbling to catch up with Ian so he smirked. “Depends on where you’re petting me,” he snorted and Ian took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving Mickey’s.

*O*

Mickey wanted to lie and say that he didn’t expect this but he’d be fucking lying and he really didn’t have enough brain cells to rub together much less to lie.

Mickey’s fingers scrabbled at the door he was pressed against as Ian thrust into him, hard and fast, just like he liked it. The burn had tears prickling at his eyes as one of Ian’s hands moved from his hip, fingers slotting into the empty spaces that Mickey’s left behind.

Mickey didn’t know why the gesture felt more intimate than anything else they’d done so far.

*O*

Mickey shoved his hands into his coat as he waited with Iggy outside of the abandoned warehouse where Terry was meeting with his suppliers.

He could still feel Ian’s fingers on his skin, despite the fact that he hadn’t seen the man in three days. There had been something there, something that Ian wasn’t saying but Mickey could almost feel it in his bones and if he was a coward for not wanting to name it then no one would know but him.

Mickey didn’t know if it was that feeling or just Ian that had him telling the man the truth about Terry but it had felt good to get the shit off his chest. It wasn’t like Ian could do a damn thing about the fact that Terry liked to beat on his kids and Mickey didn’t expect him to because Terry was his issue and he could fix it on his own.

“You heard about the new guy in town?” Iggy inquired around his smoke and Mickey squinted at his brother.

“Ain’t been around much,” he offered up.

Iggy nodded, “Yeah seen that. Mandy’s not been around much either,” he commented and Mickey tensed because Iggy was the smart one, he was the one who knew what buttons to press to get people to react how he wanted and if Iggy wanted Mandy back home…”Thanks for that. Was gonna go the other way about sorting it out but you bought me some time. Fucker’s lucky he never touched her cause his ass would be in the ground already,” Iggy murmured and the tension in Mickey’s muscles vanished so quickly it made him light-headed or maybe that was just because Iggy was talking about killing Terry like it wouldn’t mean a damn thing. It probably wouldn’t…not to Iggy.

“But this new guy, he’s taking over Southside,” Iggy continued, getting back on track and Mickey let himself focus on that.

“And no one’s giving him shit?” he demanded.

Iggy snorted, “He’s old blood. Mafia family all the way back, you step on his toes there won’t be enough places for you to hide from the rest of them.”

“What’s Terry saying about that?” Mickey inquired, genuinely curious because Terry didn’t play well with others.

Iggy shrugged, “That’s what they’re meeting about,” he responded, flashing Mickey a shark grin through the smoke curling from his nose. “I hope they agree to go after him. It’d be a fucking bloodbath.”

Mickey’s eyes flickered back to the warehouse as he bit his lip and for a second he wondered if Mandy was at the club with Ian again.

*O*

“You ever gonna kiss me?” Ian asked.

Mickey blinked from where he was leaning against Ian’s wardrobe waiting for the other man to change out of his modelling shit so they could leave.

“What so you can start thinking we’re boyfriend-girlfriend or some shit,” Mickey spat, sucking in a sharp breath when Ian was suddenly in his space, hands pressed on either side of Mickey’s head.

Something in him, that deep dark place that had scrapped and fought to survive growing up with Terry as a father had Mickey’s fingers curling into fists but Ian didn’t move, he just watched Mickey like he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Because you keep trying to and then making yourself stop,” Ian whispered, his gaze dropping to Mickey’s lips. “Because I want you to but only if you want to.”

Mickey swallowed, trying to soothe the dryness in his throat but then Ian was moving away, stepping back and Mickey was moving before he knew it, pushing himself up until he could capture Ian’s lips because he did want this and Ian made him feel like he could have whatever he wanted.

Ian’s lips were slick with the gloss that Ned had made him pack on but it didn’t really register in Mickey’s head, not with Ian’s hands curling around his waist and his tongue flickering wet and hot against Mickey’s lips.

Mickey was heaving for breath when they pulled away from one another but that look was back in Ian’s eyes and Mickey couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing the idiot again even if he wanted to and he hadn’t wanted to.

*O*

It was a day later when Mickey got a single text from Iggy.

**Terry’s dead**

Just two words, two words and Mickey felt like for the first time in his life he could breathe.

He glanced from his phone to where Ian was curled up on his side, his red hair gleaming like a beacon in the dull light.

Glancing back at the phone, Mickey dropped it on Ian’s bedside table and toed off the boots, he’d just put on before crawling back onto the bed.

The sheets weren’t any different and the mattress still felt the same but this time when Mickey rested his head on the pillow that Ian had jokingly labelled as his, he finally felt less like a fraud stealing pieces of someone else’s life.

“You staying the night?”

Ian’s voice was a husky murmur and Mickey didn’t move, even when Ian turned to face him.

“Terry’s dead,” he whispered and Ian met his gaze steadily, no emotion in his eyes.

“You sad?” Ian asked and Mickey swallowed before shaking his head, then nodding, ignoring the urge to knuckle at his eyes because he wasn’t some fucking kid.

“He fucked up all our lives but me and Mandy, we got that shit the worse and now he’s gone and he didn’t even fucking suffer enough for the shit he put us through,” he spat.

Ian’s fingers carded through his hair and the smile on his face was something that made Mickey shiver despite the warmth of the room.

“I think he did,” he muttered and Mickey blinked but he didn’t ask…he didn’t ask just like he didn’t ask about the ring that Ian never took off, just like he didn’t ask about all the clubs that Ian’s family owned or of the obvious respect that everyone had for the Gallagher name. He didn’t ask because he didn’t want Ian to confirm what he’d already figured out for himself.

Ian shuffled closer and pressed a kiss to Mickey’s forehead and Mickey let himself be tugged into Ian’s embrace.

“He fucking deserved to die,” Mickey whispered, closing his eyes and he could almost pretend he didn’t hear Ian’s response as sleep pulled him under.

*O*

Mickey wouldn’t say that he was used to what he and Ian had because he wasn’t. Sometimes he woke up with his fingers curled tight around whatever part of Ian he could reach, like his mind had been trying to reassure him that the other man was still there, even in his sleep.

He wasn’t used to it but he was getting there and he was enjoying the hell out of the journey.

Especially on mornings like this, when he woke not to his alarm but to kisses being pressed against his skin.

“Fuck off, I’m tryin’ to sleep,” Mickey groused, half-heartedly batting at Ian without opening his eyes.

The snicker that his actions got him had him pressing his face into his pillow to hide his own smile.

“You’re awake now,” Ian murmured, nipping at Mickey’s nape.

“’m not,” Mickey denied, sucking in a harsh breath when the mattress dipped on either side of his hips a second before an all too familiar pressure pressed itself against his ass.

“You don’t have to wake up then, just let me…” Ian trailed off as he tugged at the sheets and Mickey had to laugh because Ian was such a single-minded fucker when he was horny. But the offer to just lay there and let Ian do all the work was a tempting one.

But instead of more kisses, Ian was moving Mickey’s left hand and when Mickey slanted his eyes open to see what the idiot was doing, his heart stuttered in his chest as he watched Ian slip a ring onto his finger, it was almost identical to the one that Ian always wore.

“Never said I wanted to marry you, Gallagher,” Mickey choked out as Ian rolled off of him so that could shoot Mickey a bright grin.

“Like I’d give you that if I wanted you to marry me,” Ian scoffed. “That’s just a little something to keep you out of trouble.”

“Yeah, what’s it mean?” Mickey asked as he crawled over Ian, settling on the other man’s lap.

“Means you're mine and I’ll burn this city to the ground if anybody messes with that,” Ian responded, his voice completely bland and if Mickey didn’t know what he was capable of he might have laughed but instead he leaned down so that he could taste Ian’s promise with his tongue.

And if he pressed his own promise there while Ian was too blissed out to care then it was nobody’s business but his own.


End file.
